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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23563762">Help Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/amanderrpanderr/pseuds/amanderrpanderr'>amanderrpanderr</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The 100 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:55:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,819</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23563762</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/amanderrpanderr/pseuds/amanderrpanderr</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Murphy and his dad have a father/son moment on the Ark. Deals with dyslexic Murphy. I wrote this a couple years ago, just rediscovered it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Help Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Literature had always been Murphy’s favorite subject.</p>
<p>He loved books. When he was younger, he could spend all day listening to his parents read to him. For his birthday, books were on the top of his list. They would buy him two or three, depending on how much money his father could save.</p>
<p>But over the years, reading and writing was proving to be rather hard for him. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t keep up compared to his other classmates. Soon, John Murphy found that his favorite subject was soon becoming his worst. And he had no clue why.</p>
<p>Reading was becoming especially difficult. Words would get jumbled, as if they were moving around the page. The jumbled words made sentences more difficult to follow, so it took him longer to read than all the others. At first, Murphy used to think the teacher was playing a trick; that all the writings were altered so they didn’t make sense. Confused, he had asked another boy that and the boy said he was ‘being stupid’. He was sure a lot of his teacher’s thought he was stupid as well. Although the term that used was 'lazy’ or not 'applying himself’.</p>
<p>Twelve year old Murphy stared furiously at the paper on his desk. It was his last test he got back from his teacher. It was a timed exam. They had to read a few short stories and answer some multiple questions. There were also a couple of short answers. Murphy had tried to read the passages as quickly as possible but he couldn’t. The words were all mixed up in his head. So unlike most of the students, Murphy had mixed a couple short answers and the whole last passage all together. He had done very poorly on his exam with a note from his teacher asking him to remain after class. The teacher, unsurprisingly, told him how disappointed she was with Murphy’s test grade, as well as his effort in class overall. He had tried his best to explain himself but his teacher insisted he just try harder. She had given him their next reading assignment earlier. They were starting a Shakespeare unit in class. The first play they had to read was Othello.</p>
<p>Murphy liked Shakespeare. The year before they had read bits and pieces of Romeo and Juliet as well as Macbeth. Well maybe he did need to just study more, work harder. Murphy reached into his backpack and lifted out the Shakespeare play the teacher had given them. He opened it and read the first few line with little problem, “Thou-” Was he saying that right? It sounded weird, “Thou tol-” His thoughts became dizzy, his head pounding. Just start over, he thought to himself. He took a moment to collect himself before returning to the first line of the play. But while those lines were easy before, they became foreign and jumbled like the other ones.</p>
<p>Focus, he told himself, you can do it if you’re focused! Once again he tried starting over. But the words were blurred, the pounding in his head growing worse. Murphy’s stomach felt uneasy.</p>
<p>He quickly shut the book closed. His eyes were shut tight, hands clenched. His heart and head were racing, his palms sweaty. He needed his body to relax but that was proving to be quite difficult. Why was this so hard for him? Was he really that stupid? No, John Murphy was not stupid! Murphy took a deep breath as his headache had begun to subside.</p>
<p>Try again.</p>
<p>Murphy slowly opened in his eyes. He starred at the book in front of him, his hand slowly reaching forward to open it again, “Act One, Scene One,” he read to himself slowly.</p>
<p>'Tush! Renev let me. It ake it muh umkindly-’</p>
<p>“Dammit!” he yelled angrily, pounding his fists on the desk. He swiped at whatever was on his desk, causing random items to fall to the floor. He was breathing heavy and the headache was returning. His anger was rising, feeling the need to hit something. Without even thinking, he grabbed Othello and hurled it across the room at his bedroom door.</p>
<p>“John is everythi-” his father had begun to open his door but quickly shut it before the book could hit him.</p>
<p>Murphy quickly stood up in his chair, “Dad. I’m s-sorry!” he stammered, his father slowly opening the door again.</p>
<p>Alex Murphy said nothing. He stood there, starring quietly at his son. His dad wasn’t the type of parent who yelled, he was the silent angry type. He had expect his father to be angry for nearly throwing a book at him. His father, however, just seemed to be silently observing him.</p>
<p>After a moment of silence between father and son, his dad moved forward and picked up Othello. He examined the book before turning his attention back to John, “Nice throw. Quite an arm. If this had hit me, it would have left one hell of a mark.”</p>
<p>Murphy could feel his face getting hot, “I am really s-” His dad raised his hand and Murphy quieted.</p>
<p>“No damage, you don’t need to apologize. Although I would advise you not throw anymore books before you do break something.” His father moved forward to hand him the book. Murphy nodded, taking the book from his father and placing it back on his desk. His father then glanced around his room, starring at the mess of items on the floor that had previously been on his desk, “You wanna explain this?” he asked, turning back to his son.</p>
<p>“Not really,” Murphy said, a little more colder than he had wanted.</p>
<p>His father shook his head, “Gonna play the dad card here and rephrase. Now explain to me why you decided to throw all your stuff around.”</p>
<p>Murphy slumped onto his bed, “I don’t know,” he said with a shrug, “I was angry.”</p>
<p>“Angry enough to nearly take my head off with a book?”</p>
<p>“I wasn’t throwing it at you and I said I was sorry!”</p>
<p>“Well then tell me what has upset you?” His son said nothing and Alex sighed. He turned back to the pile of junk his son had thrown to the floor, lifting up some papers, “Is it because of this?” he asked, holding his failed exam up, as well as a few other not so great exams, “It’s only a few tests, bud, it’s alright.”</p>
<p>Murphy shook his head, “No it’s not! It’s all of them! I hate tests, I’m too stupid.”</p>
<p>His father looked shocked, as well as bit angry when he said that, “You’re not stupid, don’t ever say that.”</p>
<p>“But I am! I try hard!” Murphy said, the pounding in his head had returned, “I try really hard and nothing works. I’m stupid!”</p>
<p>“Stop saying that.” his father ordered, “Look everyone struggles from time to time in school. I did.”</p>
<p>“But you could read!” he found himself shouting now, his body shaking, “I can’t even read a dumb book! I’m twelve years old and I can’t read!” He must have started crying because his vision became blurry and irritated, “I h-hate this,” he stammered, trying his best to choke back sobs. His father had moved closer, standing in front of him now. John couldn’t even look at him. He starred at the floor as his tears continued, “I hate this.” His father then wrapped his arms around him, enveloping John into a tight hug. John returned the embrace, his head sobbing into his father’s chest. His father rubbed his back soothingly, whispering every so often that it was going to be okay.</p>
<p>When his son’s sobs had begun to stop, Alex pulled away, “Fell a little better?” he asked softly.</p>
<p>Murphy sniffled, wiping his nose with his sleeve, “A little…I guess,” he answered with a shrug.</p>
<p>His father nodded, taking a seat on the bed. His father motioned for the spot next to him, so he sat down, “It’s okay if you’re struggling. Everyone has something they aren’t good at. But we work hard so we can do better.”</p>
<p>“But I work hard,” John interrupted, “The teachers don’t believe me. I try and try but it can be so…”</p>
<p>“Frustrating?” his dad answered and Murphy nodded, “Well that’s okay too. You just might need a little more help. Okay?”</p>
<p>“Okay,” he said quietly. But honestly, Murphy didn’t want to ask his teacher. He wasn’t her biggest fan.</p>
<p>“I can help you,” his father said suddenly, as if reading his mind, “Used to read to you all the time when you were little.” Before Murphy could answer, his father stood up and picked up the papers, placing them back on his desk. Then he lifted the book, flipping through the pages, “Othello huh? My favorite was Titus Andronicus.”</p>
<p>Murphy stood up, walking over to his father, “You’ll really help me?”</p>
<p>His father looked up at him, confused, “Of course. Why wouldn’t I? I’m a little hurt you think I wouldn’t.”</p>
<p>“Sorry it’s just that…your job” Murphy’s dad wasn’t the best job to have on The Ark. He was a janitor. He would spend all day cleaning for very little money. They were definitely one of the poorer families here on The Ark. His father worked terribly long hours. Murphy saw him at weird times, sometimes not at all with school. He didn’t want his father to run himself ragged because of his problem. “I don’t want to bother you with more stuff when you got enough to deal with already.”</p>
<p>Alex waved his hand, “Nonsense,” he said, “I’m a dad first. Helping you is first priority."</p>
<p>"Yeah but-”</p>
<p>“When you’re a father you’ll understand.” his dad said, ruffling his hair, “If staying up all night is going to help you, then that’s what we’re going to do.”</p>
<p>There seemed to be no arguing with him, his dad’s mind was made up. The stress of the day seemed to have lifted from him. The talk with his dad had made him feel a whole lot better. He couldn’t ask for a better father, “Thanks dad.” he said gratefully, giving his dad another quick hug.</p>
<p>His dad smiled, “No problem Johnny.”</p>
<p>Then his dad pulled over the spare chair by his tv, bringing it over to his desk. The pair sat down and his father passed him over the book. Murphy opened it but just as he was about to start, his father stopped him, “Just promise me something John,” he placed a hand on his shoulder. Murphy noticed his father looked rather sad, “What dad?”</p>
<p>“Don’t refer to yourself as stupid again.”</p>
<p>Murphy nodded, “Sure dad, okay.”</p>
<p>“Because you’re not. Don’t let anyone tell you that, alright?”</p>
<p>“I won’t. I promise.”</p>
<p>Alex squeezed his son’s shoulder, remaining silent for a moment. He finally let go, “Well lets get started.”</p>
<p>“Act One, Scene One….”</p>
<p>Maybe things were looking up.</p>
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